2011 PuSh Festival Opening Gala (Part 1)

/ Lauren / Leave a comment

Through some kind of combination of Twitter, dumb luck, and the awesomeness of Zaira Petruf, the Outreach Coordinator for the PuSh International Performing Arts Festival in Vancouver, I am typing in the VIP lounge of the oh-so-cool Club Five Sixty at the 2011 PuSh Opening Gala.

I am here tonight as one of the bloggers for the event: live-blogging, tweeting, interneting all over the place. My apologies to those who have e-mail-subscribed to NiftyNotCool, I’m going to be posting several times tonight. I’m also drinking wine. Sorry.

First up, the club. Club Five Sixty is MASSIVE. And groovy. Never seen a place like it. The whole basement is a bathroom. And a bar. And a coat-check. There is a massive main floor. There is a VIP lounge upstairs. There are labyrinth-like hallways. This place is full of theatre artists and theatre lovers and bucket-loads of nifty AND cool people.

Gregor Robertson: Mayor Extraordinaire

A big highlight for me so far was watching Vancouver mayor Gregor Robertson make his opening remarks. I knew he was a nice-looking fellow but he is even better looking in person. He also seems to be very supportive of arts and culture in Vancouver in general. I appreciate a politician who is. I wish this attitude could carry more into the Provincial and Federal levels.

I have also run into major Vancouver bloggers Raul (Hummingbird604) and Rebecca (Miss604). Theatre blogger Lois (Lois Backstage) is typing next to me. I’ve also seen people I recognize from Neworld Theatre, Theatre Replacement, and Leaky Heaven Circus. I feel so VIP’ed.

I regret I must leave you all for a moment to partake in those crazy basement facilities. I’ll be back before you know it. xoxo

Conservatives & Liberals: Just stop it, both of you.

/ Lauren / 2 Comments

Like kittens? You'll love Harper's politics.

Today’s rant about being sick and tired of hearing about Canadian politics may come as a surprise to people who read my December 2 post, berating my generation for their lack of political participation and poor voter turn-out. I do still sincerely believe that citizens my age have a duty to be informed and involved. But democracy is a two-way street. Politicians who want our support need to give us something to vote for. Stephen Harper, the leader of the Canadian government, and Michael Ignatieff, the leader of the official opposition, are just not doing it for me right now.

I am tired of reading about whether or not Canadians will be subjected to a federal election this year (wasn’t that the question last year, and the year before that, and the year before that?). I am tired of the government being so arrogant (or perhaps so hopeful) as to make the claim, as they often seem to do, that “Canadians don’t want an election.”  I am tired of the opposition being so unimaginative and so impotent that the only weapon they seem to want to deploy is the threat of an election, only to withdraw that threat as soon as anyone starts to think they might really be serious.

I am tired of Stephen Harper’s sweaters and musical stylings. I am tired of Michael Ignatieff’s plaid shirts and cross-country burger flipping. Why are they doing this? Why aren’t they running the country? What the heck is going on?

That's actually pretty good. Quebec City, July 2010 Photo: Jacques Boissinot/Canadian Press

My January 17, 2011 Maclean’s came today, and with it a tidy little opinion piece by columnist Paul Wells entitled “How Stephen Harper Will Survive 2011.” Even before I read the article there was little doubt in my mind that Stephen Harper will survive 2011 just fine, though whether he’ll do anything with the power he’s still managing to cling to, anything that serves Canada more than it serves his party, is another matter. According to Wells, Harper is in a position of “relative strength” and “has a good shot at avoiding an election and, if he cannot avoid it, a good shot at winning it.” Let’s get this straight: Harper doesn’t want to win an election, he wants to avoid one, but if avoiding doesn’t work, it’s okay, he’ll win it. Harper also seems to be a fan of saying that the opposition is a fan of an election. Which seems silly, because if there was an election, Harper would win it, right?

I’m confused.

Speaking of confusion, I am not exactly receiving a boat-load of clarity from the opposition either. Iggy’s bus tour and the fact that he’s a really smart guy (albeit a bit of a cold fish in front of the camera) notwithstanding, I don’t know much about what Michael Ignatieff wants to do for my country. He likes to complain about the Conservatives, that’s for sure, but any bozo can complain. I’m complaining right now. Ignatieff’s job is to be more effective than that, and the Liberals’ only claim to fame at the moment is that they do not agree with the government. Except when they do, of course.

Just for fun, here’s a little snippet of Twitter conversation I caught on January 7, 2011 between Paul Wells and Andrew Coyne (also of Maclean’s Magazine):

InklessPW Paul Wells

“Planes and prisons” vs “families” and other good stuff: the Liberal ballot question as framed by Brison today and Goodale 2 weeks ago

acoyne acoyne

Interesting, since Libs also for planes & prisons RT @InklessPW “Planes & prisons” vs “families” & other good stuff: Liberal ballot question

acoyne acoyne
ie They’re still going to buy the planes, and they voted for the crime bills that necessitate more prisons RT @InklessPW

.

Again I’m confused. Both parties want some new planes? Both parties are on board with laws that would necessitate more prisons?  I’ll take Coyne’s word on this one, even if it is just a Twitter conversation, even if Twitter isn’t always a good “source”, since he’s a much more knowledgeable person than I.  I know 140-character limits tend to over-simplify issues a bit but it’s the very idea that bothers me. Planes and prisons for both Conservatives and Liberals? Talk about arriving at the party in the same dress and now having to figure out who “wears it better.”

This one's for my scrapbook.

If both the government and its closest rival agree on planes and prisons, and stimulus spending, and all the other big and small issues that the two parties have made gutless compromises on since 2008 (some necessary, some not), all that’s left for each side to do is accessorize that same old dress and try to convince us that the other gal looks trashy.

Which means that instead of being asked to consider which party better represents my values and beliefs regarding war, justice, education, and the economy (not to mention health care and the environment), I am being asked, by BOTH sides, to care about who is more cuddly, who likes “ordinary Canadians” more and terrorists less. To care about whether Iggy is “just visiting” or whether he’s here to stay, to care about whether Harper has something sinister up his sleeve or whether he’s doing what he truly believes is best for Canada. In short, I’m being asked to care about “politics”.

I don’t mean, “caring about politics” in terms of being informed, and of voting for the MP you think will best address your concerns. The “politics” I’m being asked to care about is mostly spin, hype, polls (whose conclusions my beliefs are never on the winning side of), a coalition of “Socialists” and “Separatists” that never really happened (and likely never will), and an election that isn’t happening yet, but that we don’t know for sure isn’t going to happen. This is the kind of crap that always seems to float to the top of the murky federal politics pool. I suppose I could stick my head in there and try to see if I can find any useful information but it’s not an appealing prospect.

Clap if you believe he can win an election. Photo: Sean Kilpatrick/ Canadian Press

This constant stream of exaggeration, hyperbole, and trivial detail seems to come from both sides. And it belittles me as a citizen. It makes me feel as though my part of the political process is about being led to the ballot box by half-truths and handshakes. It makes me feel as though nobody in Parliament thinks we’re smart enough to think about the actual issues that affect our lives and to vote that way. The fact that I haven’t seen either side touch health care with a ten-foot pole recently even though, at some point, we’re really going to have to, is not inspiring. It seems that while both sides certainly believe they have the right to govern, they don’t really have the guts to, and, to add insult to injury, they don’t think we’ll notice.

For goodness sakes, enough already. Conservatives, Liberals, just stop it. That new, nasty, media-sexy, but actually totally irrelevant barb you’re ready to let fly at the other party? That photo of you cuddling a cute kitten/baby/constituent you’re waiting to release? Just don’t. I don’t care. Go to your rooms. Think about what you’ve done. Think about what you’re going to do. I don’t want to hear a single word from either of you until you have something constructive to say.

Got the Blues Real Good: The Case for Being Sad (Sometimes)

/ Lauren / 3 Comments

From Edward Gorey's "Gashlycrumb Tinies"

Something that has really been getting my goat lately is the increasingly prevalent notion that we shouldn’t ever be sad, that sadness is somehow not a natural and normal state for people to be in sometimes. Whether it’s groups pushing for “the blues” to be classified as some kind of medical disorder (that we can therefore buy pharmaceuticals to correct, hooray!), to Always commercials instructing me to “have a happy period”, it seems like nowadays it is just not okay to feel what you feel about something if that feeling is crappy. Which it sometimes will be. Because life is sometimes super crappy.

Being sad sucks. I know. It’s truly awful. If I could keep the things that make me and the people I love sad from happening, I would. But if something does happen to make me sad, I don’t really have any choice but to roll with the punches and resign myself to being sad for awhile.

This is hard to do. I not-so-long-ago experienced an episode of Being Sad (i.e. my “Pit of Crankypants Behaviour”, first-ever post). I hated feeling that way to the point of being physically ill. I wanted to crawl out of my skin. I thought, “If only there was something I could do, some pill I could take, to make me not feel this, to make me not mind the things that are going on in my life.” But drinking or drugging myself happy was not the road I wanted to go down.

Perishing of fits - more Edward Gorey

To clarify: nothing truly horrible happened to me (no abuse, no death), but I wasn’t enjoying myself or having a hilarious time. My Sad was real and it hurt. But even though I didn’t want to wallow, I decided not to ignore my Big Bad Blues.

I’m not judging people who want to go on an all-out bender and pretend to have a fabulous time, or who give themselves Daily Affirmations that “everything is fine” when their heart is broken or they’ve lost their job. I get it. I’ve done it. I just don’t think it would help me in the long run. Sure, when I’m flying high I’ll be feeling fine but when I sober up the Sad will be there waiting for me and the more I Daily Affirm away my feelings the longer I’ll put off having to deal with the reality of the thing that made me sad in the first place. If I don’t deal with my shit now, accept it and move on, I know it will come back and bite me in the ass later.

Which brings me to my Case for Being Sad: my belief is that regular, run-of-the-mill Being Sad is not only an inescapable part of being alive, it is also incredibly useful. Though I have hated every single moment of every single time I have been “capital S” Sad, I can’t deny that I have made some great changes in my life because of them. In the past these changes have included: not accepting anything less than the excellent treatment I deserve from a partner, eating like a responsible adult, knuckling down in uni, learning that I can fall in love more than once, not taking things for granted, and trying new things like aerial silks (3 years on the silks and still going strong!).

My recent time in the Pit of Gloom and Crankypants Behaviour has given me an opportunity to continue to build on these foundations. I know more about myself now, some of it great, some of it not so great. One of the things I’ve realized is that I am fearful. I used to think that my static behaviour was laziness but it turns out that I am simply afraid of a lot of things: I am afraid of big change (though I am also afraid to get stuck in a rut), I am afraid of the unpredictability that life brings, I am afraid to be in social situations where I don’t know anyone, I am afraid of failure.

"The Blue Guitar" - Picasso

And what am I really afraid of? Well, of being sad I guess. A change that didn’t work out would make me sad. A social situation where no one liked me would make me sad. Failure would make me sad. So I lived in fear of all these things, and guess what? I got sad anyways. At this point, there is nothing else to be afraid of. So I’m blogging even though I might fail miserably and be the Worst Blogger To Ever Make Herself Look Stupid. I’m volunteering as a mentor even though making commitments that change my life’s routine is scary. I’m making travel plans. I have attended events, and will continue attending events, where I don’t know anybody because I might have fun, and hell, most people are nice if you take the trouble to meet them.

Before my latest Sad, I hadn’t realized how little I had made my life, and how afraid I was of things. Until the Blues hit me and I really needed my friends, I didn’t realize how very amazing and supportive they are. I hadn’t realized what was positive about the way I was living my life, and what was not.

Is it hard to look at myself so closely? Yeah. It is. And it’s embarrassing to talk about it in a blog. But now that I’ve started making these changes and heading in this fearless new direction, I don’t want to stop. I don’t want to be sad, no one does, but I don’t want to live my life in fear of being sad. I’ve been sad, I’m still here. I thought I couldn’t bear it, and then it turned out that I could.

If you are unlucky and the Big Bad Blues come your way, be gentle but honest with yourself. Cry your tears, go out with your best drinking buddies, throw yourself into work or school for awhile. Affirm yourself if you need some affirmation. Fight it if you have to. Just don’t deny the crappiness. Look it in the face. Learn something. Deal with your shit. Move on.

You may as well. Because whether you like it or not, no full life is lived without some “capital S” Sadness. Why not meet it head on, live with it, see what you discover? There are all kinds of bravery in the world. I think acknowledging the inevitable Sadness and refusing to live in fear of encountering it is very brave indeed.

Reflections: “Dear 16-year-old Lauren”

/ Lauren / 3 Comments

With New Year’s Eve and the end of 2010 quickly approaching, many bloggers, Twitter personalities, news outlets, etc. are taking this time to reflect upon the year that has passed.

I do not yet feel like reflecting upon the year that has passed. It was a long year (365 days!). A lot happened. ‘Nuff said.

However, in the spirit of remembering days gone by, and in the spirit of the nostalgia that visiting my childhood home in Saskatchewan for the first time in two and a half years has given me, I decided to dig up my oldest box of journals (I started keeping a diary when I was in grade 3) and read some of them. Most of my entries are painfully embarrassing. I had a lot of crushes (esp. for an 8-year-old). I deluded myself into thinking these boys had crushes on me when probably they just wanted to play with their pogs. Pretty appalling stuff, and for the most part too humiliating to share with the internet.

My trip down Embarrassing Memory Lane revealed a treasure I had completely forgotten about: a letter I wrote when I was 12, to myself at 16 (I’ve changed all actual names but the spelling mistakes are real):

October 5, 1998

Dear 16-year-old Lauren,

I wrote a letter to you when I was in, like, grade two, but I lost it, and besides, nothing interesting was happening.

I hope you haven’t dropped out of school. I want to be a teacher right now. And if I have girls, I want to name them Katrina, Fiona, and, maybe, Meredith. I’m not really sure about the other two names, but I like Katrina for sure.

Right now I have totally fallen for Russell McDonald. My friends are Amanda, Tiffany, Jane (my best friend), and Cassie. My enimies are Kathleen, Jennifer, and Louise. Angela is OK to hang out with, but she flirts and acts stupid all the time. I like to get hyper with my friends, my favourite band is the Cranberries, I like Swing Music, I’m on the X-country running team, the volleyball team, the music group, the SRC, I will probably be doing French by correspondence, and I will be doing drama. My favourite colour is blue, my favourite number is ten.

I hope you’ve made good decisions: not to smoke, not to drink, not to do drugs, …and so one.

Love, Lauren (at 12 years old)

Yikes. I suppose it never occurred to 12-year-old Lauren that dropping out of school isn’t just something that might happen without you noticing when you turn 16, especially when your parents are teachers. And yes, when I said I liked to “get hyper” with my friends, I really meant being hyper and energetic…no sinister euphemisms here.

A couple of things surprised me about this letter. Firstly, it seems to say absolutely nothing at all. Wouldn’t someone writing to their future selves have a lot to say? Wouldn’t they want to fill their letter with important information?

The second thing that surprised me was the realization that these silly details actually were REALLY important to me, and probably to many 12-year-old girls. Who my friends were, who my “enimies” were, what band I liked, all the extra-curricular activities I was involved in in Junior High… It’s strange to think about how small my world was then, how little I knew of what my life was going to be like, and how old I actually thought 16 would be, when I know now that 16 isn’t old at all. And that even with 12 more years under my belt (a whole other lifetime for the author of the letter), my world is still smaller than I want it to be, I still know very little about what my life will be like, and I’m still not really very old at all.

I’m actually impressed that I was involved in so many activities. Good for you, 12-year-old Lauren. (Full disclosure: I was terrible at volleyball. I made it to the end of the season and never signed up for it again. I like to play “casual” volleyball now though, when I get the chance.)

I’m happy to report that I’ve come far enough since grade 7 that I don’t have any “enimies” anymore. And that I don’t need to worry about people who “act stupid all the time” because I’ve been lucky enough in my adult life to be surrounded by kind, smart, fun people most of the time. I still like swing and big band music. My favourite colour is still blue. I like the number 10 but I think the number 2 is better. As for “making good decisions…and so one”…well….I never took up smoking. So good for me.

I hope that if I ever do have a 12-year-old girl of my own (Katrina is a family name so that one’s still on the table), I’ll remember to think of this letter and try to understand a time when my crush and my social circle and my little activities were everything and I wasn’t worried about the world or whether or not my dreams and the dreams of those I love would be possible against the backdrop of the hundred million things that could happen before I grew up.

And what did 16-year-old Lauren think of her 12-year-old self? Well, in 2002, when I was 16, I wrote on the envelope, “Ha ha. Poor little 12-year-old Lauren. She doesn’t know me, but I think she’d be proud of what I’ve become.” As if I was really anything at the ripe old age of 16 for a 12-year-old Cranberries fan to be proud of. But maybe I was.

Ha ha. Poor little 16-year-old Lauren.

And soon enough it will be…Ha ha. Poor little 24-year-old Lauren.

I guess the moral of the story is that I’m going keep embarrassing myself, and writing stupid things, no matter what my age.

Happy New Year, everybody. Remember that no matter what you do or think in 2011, you’ll likely think you were stupid later, so don’t worry about it. 🙂

Dear Rick Mercer: Please make me your sidekick

/ Lauren / 1 Comment

 

Saskatchewan (usually BC), Canada

ATTN: Rick Mercer, The Rick Mercer Report

CC: CBC Television

Watch the Rick Mercer Report on CBC Television

Dear Mr. Mercer,

I am writing to you today to humbly request that you consider making me your sidekick on the Rick Mercer Report. I know what you are thinking. You are thinking, “The RMR is an excellent show just as it is, without a sidekick.” And it is. It certainly is. But my dream job is to be your sidekick on the Rick Mercer Report, and I’m pretty sure my effect on the RMR will be harmless at worst, and at best, I might improve ratings in the “enjoys watching well-mannered young Canadians on TV” demographic. (And who doesn’t like well-mannered young Canadians? It’s what we DO.)

I will now outline the reasons why I would make an excellent sidekick for you on the Rick Mercer Report:

1. FANDOM. I think anyone who is going to be your sidekick should be a fan. I am a fan. Of you Mr. Mercer, of the Rick Mercer Report, and of the CBC. Being from rural Saskatchewan, I was raised on CBC TV (one of two channels we received) and CBC Radio. I grew up watching This Hour Has 22 Minutes. Sure, once I moved out to the West Coast and mysteriously got free cable for a while I left my CBC roots. But after the Rick Mercer Report visited Simon Fraser University (my alma mater) for the Spread the Net Student Challenge I started watching the RMR. A wave of nostalgia washed over me and my highest show-biz ambition is now to be a CBC media personality.

2. TRAVELLING CANADA. A lot of what you do on the Rick Mercer Report involves travelling across Canada. As my only dependents in Vancouver at the moment are fairly hardy houseplants I am up for Canadian adventures whenever you and the CBC say the word. (I graduated with a BFA, so you know I have free time.) One of the reasons the RMR works is that you have a genuine interest in and love for Canada. So do I. I’ve lived in other countries and I relished the experience but I’ve got a pretty strong bias for Canada. Big places, small places, north, south, east, west, Canada’s my home and I’d love to show it off. I also feel that between the two of us (you growing up in the Maritimes and working in Toronto, me growing up in Saskatchewan and working in Vancouver) we’ll have Canada pretty much covered east to west. (As a matter of fact, let’s add “Western Canadians” to the demographic I can try to help reach. Cha-ching.)

“Hold the phone,” you might say, “there’s a lot more to the RMR than just travelling around Canada.” I know this, and I am ready. Heli-logging? Love to try it. Bungee jumping with Rick Hansen? Zip lining? Sign me up. Harvesting potatoes? I’ve been picking potatoes since I was a young fry. I am ready for you, Canada. I will taste your jams and dance your jigs and fire your cannons and ride in and/or drive vehicles I most certainly do not have the certification to operate. I will wear a camera on my head as I plunge off some Canadian summit, kept safe by only a harness and my will to not die on Canadian television. So Canada’s a big wild country? Bring it.

3. MY TV-FRIENDLY ATTRIBUTES. I understand that good RMR sidekick material would also have to be good TV material. I’m outgoing and love talking to people. I’m cheerful and silly, smart and grounded. I keep abreast of Canadian politics with my Maclean’s subscription (all the better to quip about politicians with), my more-clever-than-me friends, and my new Twitter addiction. I have a clear and pleasant speaking voice (like an elementary school secretary), I’m very polite, and I’m reasonably easy on the eyes too:

 

Nothing that a CBC make-up artist can't spruce up.

I realize that the RMR and CBC TV likely do not have the budget to hire a whole other (more or less unnecessary) person to be your sidekick. I would like to point out that in addition to the attributes listed above, I’m relatively small, don’t eat much, and require fairly little upkeep. I am happy to curl up each night in a bedroom set left over from “Wind At My Back” or any other remnant of CBC Canadiana not currently being used. A nice four-poster from “Road to Avonlea” would do just fine.

As a spunky Canadian and fan of your show, Mr. Mercer, I believe I really ought to be considered as a possible sidekick for you on the Rick Mercer Report. I would do an outstanding job mostly because I would be so jazzed to be there. Also, my parents would think it was really cool.

I am able to drop everything and be an awesome sidekick at your earliest convenience. References are available upon request. I wish you a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. Best of luck in your 2011 season.

Sincerely,

Lauren Kresowaty

(twitter.com/niftynotcool)

P.S. For all of you reading who are NOT Rick Mercer or a representative of CBC Television, remember to watch the Rick Mercer Report on CBC when it returns in the New Year and to have a wonderful Christmas.

Are you going to watch the Rick Mercer Report? I know I am!

 

 

“Christmas on the Air” – The internet giveth and I giveth back

/ Lauren / Leave a comment

This year, Christmas came early courtesy of Twitter. On Saturday, Sabrina of Twenty-Something Theatre (@theatre_20) tweeted that she had a +1 for Midnight Theatre Collective’s “Christmas on the Air” at Pacific Theatre she was hoping to make use of. Not having met Sabrina in the flesh yet, I wasn’t sure she’d want to give a ticket up to me but I decided to message her on Twitter anyways and see if she still had the ticket to give away. She did, and even though she’d never met me, she saved it at the box office for me and I got to see some delightful Christmas theatre. (I met her at the show, by the by. She’s very friendly and cool in addition to being generous with her +1’s).

Since the connective power of the internet (coupled with Sabrina’s niceness) got me my free ticket to “Christmas on the Air”, it only seemed right that when Raul from Hummingbird604 (@hummingbird604) tweeted that he wouldn’t mind having someone guest post for him, I offered up the “Christmas on the Air” review I was going to post here for his site. I had the good fortune to meet Raul this spring at the Global Agents Gala through a mutual friend and he has been nothing but kind and supportive during my adventures in this brave new world of Twitter and blogs.

(Incidentally, if you’re considering getting in the holiday spirit by donating to a worthy organization, Global Agents is a very effective Vancouver-based non-profit committed to eradicating global poverty. That’s why they’re in my “Nifty AND Cool” links.)

Before you think I was being altruistic by offering up my review, I should point out that Raul is a Vancouver Blogger Extraordinaire and that my post will get far more exposure through Hummingbird604 than it ever would from Nifty Not Cool. I am  tickled that Raul agreed to post my review. If you want to read about my evening at “Christmas on the Air” on Hummingbird604, click here.

Lucia di Lammermoor: My trip to the opera

/ Lauren / 1 Comment

 

Vancouver Opera Poster. Artwork by Leonard Dente.

Yesterday was the day I had decided I was going to write a new blog post. About what, I didn’t know. I had planned to write about whether or not Carole James should step down as the leader of the BC NDP, but then she went ahead and did it and saved me the trouble of pondering whether it was going to happen.

I had already changed out of my respectable work clothes and into my “comfies” and was just settling in with my lap top for a promising evening of procrastination when my phone rang. A friend of mine who works at the Queen Elizabeth Theatre had been given a free ticket to the Vancouver Opera‘s production of Donizetti’s Lucia di Lammermoor (an Italian opera set in Scotland! How quaint!) and wondered if I would like to go. Free opera? You bet. I was out of my “comfies” and back in my “look respectablies” in half a tick and out I went into the wind and the rain.

I’ve been to the opera before, but not in Canada. A few Christmases ago I was lucky enough to see La Traviata in Bassano del Grappa. The only problem was that Italians don’t need surtitles to understand Italian operas so I didn’t really get much past the general gist. I was excited to be seeing an opera that provided surtitles so I’d know what the heck was going on.

I would like to state that the acoustics in the Queen Elizabeth Theatre are excellent. I was sitting pretty high up in the balcony and I could hear every sound onstage. The man unwrapping his candy three rows down sounded like he was unwrapping it in my head (thanks guy! You really made Act II for me!). Most importantly, of course, the incredible voices carried.

It always annoys me when Famous Old Shows (like this one) are full of men with only one main character being played by a woman. But what a woman! In this production, one is all you need. I know nothing of sopranos, even less about “coloratura” sopranos, but I thought that Eglise Guitierrez was exquisite as Lucia. She was a powerhouse who carried the show for me. I’ve always imagined that high notes are shrill for everyone, even if you can hit them, but every sound from Guitierrez was as smooth and pure as a crystal bell. Her voice didn’t sound like it was coming from her mouth, it seemed to be coming from the entire theatre. She sang her ass off and made it look easy. I was awe struck.

I’m not a big opera buff and when I see classical performances like this I’m always worried that I’ll fall asleep or be bored stiff (even if the music’s great) but I really enjoyed myself.  Obviously, the vocal athletics helped, as did the surtitles which were sometimes a little funny (“Oh. I cannot contain my anger. My blood blazes.”) but were sometimes downright poetic. It may have been my hormones but when the betrayed lover Edgardo crashed Lucia’s wedding to another man, and the surtitle to his part read, “I am a martyr to a deceiving heart” I was moved to tears. Oh Edgardo! It’s all a misunderstanding! If you would just listen! But no, he didn’t listen. He threw his ring at poor Lucia and sang something scornful and Italian at her before fleeing the scene. Epic.

The highlight for me was the Mad Scene, when the blood-stained Lucia entered and began to sing Il dolce suono.  A thought stuck me: I know this one! Why do I know this one? Well folks, I know this one because I have watched the movie The Fifth Element a gajillion times and Il dolce suono is the aria the blue diva starts singing before she goes into her Techno Opera. You learn something new every day. Sweet.

Not your grandmother's Lucia

While I had a lovely time and am extremely grateful for my free ticket, I’m not sure yet that I’m the kind of person who should be a regular opera-goer. Even though my heart went out to Lucia in her madness, I couldn’t help grinning as brother Enrico awkwardly moved her unconscious body a foot or so upstage because she had “fainted” right where the scrim was going to come down. When Lucia’s dying lover Edgardo gave his last fatal flop and collapsed at the end of Act III it was just too much for my silly little soul and I emitted an audible snicker (carried far and wide by the beautiful acoustics). Whoops. Sorry everyone. I really am moved, it’s just…  tee hee.

Despite not being sure that I’m mature enough for the opera, I had a top-notch evening and if tragedies and good music are your thing I heartily recommend Lucia di Lammermoor. The last two performances are December 9 and 11 at 7:30 p.m. at the Queen E. I have heard good things about Vancouver Opera’s season so far so please check them out at www.vancouveropera.ca if you are an opera lover or are thinking of giving it a whirl.

A Call to Political Participation for the ME-llenial Generation

/ Lauren / 2 Comments

In the November 22 issue of Maclean’s this fall, columnist Andrew Potter had this to say about the generation I belong to:

The members of the “millenial” generation have been accused of being a self-centred and politically apathetic cohort of cool-hunting technology addicts whose central claim to notoriety is that they have the attention span of a puppy dog on Red Bull. In last week’s mid-term elections, they did their level best to prove their critics right.

The context of this diatribe is an article entitled, “Where Was the Youth Vote?”, examining the effect poor youth voter turnout had on the recent mid-term elections in the US. Though I think my generation has a little more to offer than a puppy on Red Bull (I for one don’t pee on the rug), I can’t say I blame Andrew Potter for blaming us.

According to Potter’s article, Obama was voted into office in 2008 on a wave of support from new voters. A vital component of this wave was the youth vote: over 50% of eligible voters between 18 and 29 showed up at the ballot box (the second largest young voter participation rate in US history).  Fast-forward to the 2010 mid-term elections, and only about 20% of young voters bothered. Apparently two years can do a lot: “Yes We Can” has turned into “Do We Have To?”.

Yes. We do. I know voting for a more-or-less not famous Democrat or Republican during the mid-terms isn’t quite as exciting as being given a chance to vote for the first black US President ever, but that doesn’t mean it’s not important. Unfortunately, being a Canadian, I am not able to vote in US elections.

A little closer to home the picture doesn’t seem quite so bleak. The Stats Canada website didn’t have a neat little figure like “such and such percentage of eligible voters between 18 and 29 voted” (at least not that I could find), but I was able to glean that 59% of Canadians in their 20s have voted in at least one election. This is pretty much on par with the 58.8% of eligible Canadians who voted in the 2008 federal election. This doesn’t mean we should rest on our laurels. There are still 40% of Canadians in their 20s not doing the bare minimum when it comes to participating in democracy in Canada, and I see no particular virtue in being only as bad as everyone else.

All is not lost, however. The Stats Canada webpage helpfully goes on to cite a report called “Willing to Participate: Political Engagement of Young Adults” that found that while voter participation among young people was low, young adults are just as likely as any other age group to participate in non-voting political activity. This non-voting activity includes signing a petition, boycotting a product, or choosing to buy a specific product for ethical reasons. Social networking has made these non-voting activities all the easier (no more walking door to door collecting signatures: 200 000 Canadians can express their disapproval of Harper proroguing Parliament on Facebook!).

I understand that it’s easy to become disenfranchised with the government and have a preference for non-voting activity over voting in elections. As one of my friends (a Poli Sci grad) recently pointed out, government’s hands are often tied when it comes to the issues that are important to us. For diplomatic reasons (or because they want to get re-elected), governments are sometimes unwilling or unable to go to certain places or to tackle certain hot button issues and leave that gap to be filled by NGOs, non-profits, and advocacy groups. Being the young people we are, it’s reasonable to expect that we’d rather put our energy and faith into supporting non-voting activities that actually seem to have an impact than cast a ballot and try to choose one bunch of stuffy old jerks over another bunch of stuffy old jerks. But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t vote.

The only way to make politicians care about the concerns of young voters is to make them think they actually have something to lose if they don’t. A lack of voter participation in elections allows the governing party to pander to the demographic that voted for them– and no one else. An example of this would be the tempest in a teapot the Conservative government created this summer over “privacy concerns” and the mandatory long-form census. What do they care that minority and low-income groups might be poorly represented by a voluntary census? Statistically, these groups are less likely to vote, and so the government has nothing to gain in the polls by troubling themselves over the concerns of those groups, and everything to gain by catering to the caprices of the far right groups who “don’t think it’s the government’s business to know how many bedrooms they have”, because these are the groups that can be counted on to show their support on election day.

www.marriedtothesea.com
www.marriedtothesea.com

The government doesn’t really seem to have a lot do with my daily life. I suppose as a BC theatre artist, the provincial government has a lot to do with the fact that I had to take a job in a different sector to support myself, but really, we all just seem to hum along no matter who’s in power and maybe we assume we can just hum along forever and it will never matter who we have in government. Well, someday it will matter. If you ever have children, it will matter what the education system is like. When your parents (and someday you) retire, it will matter what pensions are like. And unfortunately, someday, without warning, it will matter very much what the health care system is like.

I am incredibly impatient. I hear a lot about my generation having a short attention span and being addicted to instant gratification and maybe that’s true. I hate the excruciatingly slow pace of getting something, ANYTHING, done in government. The systems I mentioned above are in need of massive change if we want to preserve the quality of life we enjoy now. But change comes in baby steps. So why not take the baby steps now, become part of a strong voting base NOW, so that by the time you really need change to occur you’ll have provided the foundation to bring it about?

Marketers have realized that the millenial generation is the most important consumer demographic, because we can be counted on to buy things. Wouldn’t it be great if governments treated us as the most important citizen demographic because we could be counted on to vote?

Voting is practically one of the easiest things I’ve ever done in my life. Not registered to vote? Register with Elections Canada online at www.elections.ca and click on “Voters” in the upper left of the home page. Are you one of those lucky readers who can vote in the US? Visit www.usa.gov/Citizen/Topics/Voting/Register.shtml and get your ass registered.

Technically, Canada isn’t scheduled for another election until 2012, so in the meantime, effect change in that non-voting political way we’re so good at. The internet is full of information about how to get involved with just about any cause under the sun. Seeing as how we’re all “cool-hunting technology addicts”, I’m sure we’ll have no trouble finding it.

NiftyNotCool: A Whine and Cheese Introduction

/ Lauren / 5 Comments

Once upon a time, I was a Miss Grumpy Pants. And on weekend mornings, while most people puttered around getting dressed and making breakfast and checking their e-mail , I would lie in bed in my pajamas, reading Maclean’s Magazine and despairing  over the state of the world. I landed myself  in (and often sought out) exhausting arguments over the issues that were troubling me (I was on my junior high’s debate team, yo) and berated those who refused to engage for “not caring”.

It should not be surprising that this situation was not sustainable. I have recently had to pull myself out of a pit of gloom and crankypants behaviour. My Maclean’s subscription, however, and my overwhelming need to have an outlet for my despair (and for the things in the world that do excite me and fill me with hope), remain.

In the inevitable period of self-reflection that has followed, I have realized three things. Thing One, I need something to occupy my mind, and make use of the brains that have been growing lazier and lazier since I finished my undergrad. Thing Two, spending the day in my pajamas and refusing to leave my bed because the world makes me sad is not helpful to anyone, and the only way my whining could be construed as slightly beneficial to the world is if it is presented in a structured and (hopefully) well-thought-out manner. To address Thing One and Thing Two, I decided that I might like to take a crack at blogging. For a 24-year-old I am ridiculously technologically inept, and if I don’t hop on a computer now and use it to do more then check my e-mail and watch the Rick Mercer Report, I might never know how to use one again.

My decision to try writing a blog, however, brought me around to realizing Thing Three: I am not cool. Not at all. You’ve probably realized that by now what with my Maclean’s subscription and my obsession with Rick Mercer. And it seems like the best blogs out there written by people my age are, well, written by cool people. Or at least people whose lives seem pretty cool. Or, if they are not cool they are ridiculously hilarious and that’s just as good as being cool. And I’m not. I’m a lot of nice things, and I do think I’m a pretty nifty lady at times, but cool? Sadly, no.

Verdict: Nifty... but Not Cool.

One only has to look at my East Van apartment for proof. In anyone else’s hands it would be a cool apartment. Filled with my things, however, it is “nifty”. As in, “Hey, those are nifty salt and pepper shakers.” Or, “I like your jellyfish toothbrush cup. Nifty.” Continue your investigation of my apartment  and you will eventually find a closet full of mostly boring clothes which I accent with nifty accessories. I have some nifty shirts. My underpants are nifty. Nothing is cool. I don’t deliberately try to be uncool, but it seems that I simply don’t notice that something is cool or that a trend has begun until it’s so entrenched in everyday fashion that my mom is wearing it and at that point obviously it’s not cool anymore.

I wondered what to do about Thing Three. I quickly dismissed the idea that maybe I could try to be cool.  Any attempts I’ve ever made at becoming cool have ended in misery and with me owning an article of clothing or a CD I have no idea what to do with. I’m not especially thick-skinned and I wasn’t sure I was brave enough to blog on the power of nifty-ness alone. So what to do?

Stuff it, I’m writing a blog and just warning you ahead of time that while I’ll try to do a good job of it it will never be cool. If you don’t mind, I don’t mind. Onwards!

At this point you are probably thinking, “Okay, I got the ‘whine’ part [’cause I’m a whiner–get it?] but where is the cheese?”

There isn’t any. I lied. Sorry.